Where I blog from

AJ tagged me for a neat idea -- to take pictures of where I sit/stand/spin with my computer when I'm writing for this blog. Anybody who wants to follow suit and post their own, please do so!

Below are pictures of the "comfy chair" in our den, which is my spot for blogging. I have a laptop for work that I bring home every night and use for myself, while Jamie uses the family desktop computer (visible in the corner of the room).

This is also where I sit for movie viewing, but I have to move a whole 2 feet to play the keyboard! It's a tough life.

Note: some of you may recognize "Reverend Billy" on the TV screen -- I took these pictures on the night I was watching What Would Jesus Buy?

The boy's a super freak

In some online browing recently, I stumbled across a cool survey site*. It had a Meyers-Briggs style of personality test, only instead of the usual results (I always come out as an INFJ) it puts a sarcastic and biting spin on your personality type.

For instance, instead of "spontaneous", it might say you're irresponsible. Instead of "dependable", it might say you're boring. My kind of survey! I can take a character jab in good fun. So here's what mine said:

__________________________________________________________________

Your result for The Brutally Honest Personality Test ...

Freak- INFJ
20% Extraversion, 67% Intuition, 40% Thinking, 80% Judging



Well, well, well. How did someone like you end up with the least common personality type of them all? In a group of 100 Americans, only 0.5 others would be just like you. You really are one of a kind... In fact, I do believe that that's one of the definitions for the word "FREAK."
Freak's not such a bad word to describe you actually.

You are deep, complex, secretive and extremely difficult to understand. If that doesn't scream "Freak!" I don't know what does. No-one actually knows the REAL you, do they?

You probably have deep interests in creative expression as well as issues of spirituality and human development.

You've probably even been called a "psychic" before, because of your uncanny knack to understand and "read" people without quite knowing how you do it. Don't fret. You're not actually psychic. That would make you special and you'll never accomplish that.

You're also quite possible the most emotional of them all, so don't take this all too hard. Nevertheless you most definitely have the strangest personality type and that's not necessarily a good thing.

_________________________________________________


OK, so the picture is funny, and the text is right on. Those of you who know me well know exactly how well the above paragraphs describe me.

Freaky.

So obviously this is something to keep in mind during those times when I don't feel like it fit in. I was wired with a 1-in-200 type of personality, so most people may not be able to empathize with my style of thinking. And that probably is a good thing.

*I'm not linking to the site because I discovered it automatically signed me up for a dating service. They didn't ask my permission; neither have they gotten me a hot date yet. Double fail.

This brain needs an enema!

Been a while, huh?

Not to sound insensitive, but I'm not really sorry that I was gone. I am sorry if you got the shakes or had other withdrawal symptoms as a result of my absence, but in some mysterious way my break was necessary. It was right. And I can't really explain it.

I'm in a weird season of spirit right now, and I'm curious where it goes from here. I'm not depressed, but I'm not into some of my usual activities lately (like blogging, for example). And I can't even put a finger on what my crazy brain is slowly working through, but it must be something big. Maybe soon it will let me in on it.

Until then, here's some random spewage of news and stuff:

-- My company, like many others, is about to face some hard times. I'm being asked to do more than ever before, even though (or maybe because) my little department was the sole part of the company that exceeded forecast this year.

-- This means that I'm taking some big leadership roles in some projects. Roles that make absolutely no sense organizationally, because I'm playing in other people's sandboxes and driving strategy for people way above my title and paygrade. But I'm doing it anyway.

-- At the same time, the company has hooked me up with a life/career coach. He and I clicked right away, and in the background of our discussions we know that one day I'm probably going to stop all this corporate stuff and follow my true calling. As soon as I figure out what it is. I'm thinking AJ's past recommendation of a preacher/teacher/comedian/pychologist/analyst thing sounds good. Anybody know someone who's hiring that combo?

-- Speaking of preaching, my church asked me to preach on a Sunday in January. I turned it down. That still bothers me, because I know why I turned it down. It's because I can't preach my heart there. I could give a sermon on plenty of other topics and they'd be satisfied. But I have this sense that the next time I preach, it will be about my evolved understanding of grace, and how it's changed my life and changed what I see as the Christian mission. That's the core of who I am, and to speak powerfully and genuinely, that's what I'd need to share. But I can't do it at the church where I'm a member. Frustrating.

-- I finished teaching my bible class that I've done weekly for six months. It was a wonderful, challenging experience trying to lead a group of people who are twice my age. In many ways I am kindred spirits with that generation. Weird, huh? But that's why my best friends in college were my grandparents, not my classmates. That's a weirdness I'll wear proudly.

-- The senior minister at church asked me to attend the young couples' class that he's teaching, with a tentative plan for me to take over for him soon if I connect with the group. I sat in there last week to discover that I disagreed with practically every single point of the minister's lesson. I thought it was flat out, undeniably, dangerously wrong. He taught that pain/suffering are always directly from God, and are forms of discipline for our unrighteousness. He said there's no room for random events and "life happens" scenarios -- it's all uniquely and purposely from God.

-- This stuff is making me wonder where I fit at church.

-- Jamie and I celebrate our 10th anniversary next month! We're planning on a 4-day, 3-night, jaunt to Southern California to stay in a cabin at the foot of a mountain range. A few days of quiet, sharing, nature, reflection, hiking and boom-chicka-bang-bang. Yeehaw!

-- My daughter is almost halfway through kindergarten. When did that happen?

-- We paid off the van today, 13 months early. That means we have no car payment next month, for the first time in six years. We had no car payment for the first four years of our marriage and we're thrilled to return to that place again. It will make many other things possible financially.

-- I continue studying the economic climate, and I continue to be disturbed. As I blogged about earlier, nobody seems to be discussing the fundamental weaknesses of our economy (low production, low savings, brain drain). If printing more money would fix the problem, wouldn't that have already worked by now? We're teetering on this weird edge between deflation and hyperinflation, and right now I wouldn't be surprised to see either one become reality in 2009.

-- Tonight at dinner I asked the kids what kinds of things Christmas is about. Samantha said "giving" and "sharing". Jack said "baking cookies" and "eating cookies".

-- I like cookies. And hot cocoa. And eggnog. And I've had all three in the past 24 hours.

-- Burp.

Made in God's image

Sorry to single you out again, debby, but your comment sparked another series of thoughts for me. You mentioned that your role as a mother is part of your connection to knowing/understanding God. In some ways it sounded like this was a treasured epiphany for you, but in other ways you almost sounded guilty, like it cheapens God's love to compare it to our own.

I don't think that's the case at all. Christians believe that we are created in the image of God, and although there's dispute over exactly what that means, it should at least give us peace that our own thoughts, relationships and concepts aren't laughably inept and petty to God. In some mysterious way, some "image", we and God share the same experience.

Our human role of parent is often very useful to me in thinking of the divine role of creator. You see, in our Western form of Christianity we are told that the entire purpose of the universe is to glorify God. In fact, just yesterday at church a man gave a short talk about how the entire point of Jesus' life was to bring glory to the Father. Here we inevitably get back to the Trinitarian concepts that do nothing for me (wasn't Jesus really glorifying himself, if he was God?), but the man's central message was that it's all about God.

Eastern Orthodox churches have a different picture of creation. They look at God as other-oriented, at His core. This was reflected in the life of Jesus, who spent his few years of ministry healing, teaching and loving people. There's no evidence that Jesus was doing this primarily as a self-focused exercise. He genuinely cared about the people of his time, and did his best to serve them. As his core, he was other-oriented.

So compare these two pictures of God from the West and from the East -- the creator making it for his own glory, and the creator who is other-oriented and sharing something beautiful with creations he loves. Quite different pictures... are they mutually exlusive? I don't know!

What I do know is that the Eastern view of God actually meshes better with my own experience as a father. I didn't have children with the main purpose to create a generation that would take care of me. It wasn't about me receiving service or praise from little ones. No, when Jamie and I decided it was time to start a family, the reason was something much more indefinable. It was just time. We were ready to share our home, and our very selves, with new family members. We were ready to create life and nurture it, watch it grow with excitement and concern, and then one day release it to find its way in this crazy and fun universe.

So I wonder if the "why" of creation, for God, is something similar. I wonder if that's part of his image we inherited. Maybe he didn't make this whole thing just so that he'd be praised. Maybe it was something tougher to put a finger on, and it was just time. Maybe he wanted others to share in this thing called life, and then after it's over, he'll move us on to the next adventure and once again watch with excitement, concern and pride, like any good parent would.

In the end, is it still all about God? Perhaps so. But my perception of what that means has really changed over time.

Why I believe

Debby had a good comment on my last post, and it led me to ponder my favorite part of Timothy Keller's book that I read and reviewed.

As I mentioned in the review, I like that Keller came right out and admitted that there's no proof for God. Can faith in God be reasonable in some ways? Sure. But the reasons and evidence hardly pile up to the line of inevitability. It's certainly possible that God doesn't exist, and even the term "faith" implies uncertainty and maybe even some doubt. That's okay.

This concession can be so powerful in forming healthy relationships with agnostics and atheists. I sometimes meet church members who feel that their faith is so sure, so unshakably correct and true, that anyone who doesn't agree just isn't paying attention to the obvious. There is much I admire in that kind of stalwart faith, and while I see the need for those types of followers in the kingdom, I am not one of them. My faith, at its deepest level, shrugs its shoulders and says, "You know what? I might be wrong about all of this."

This doesn't work for everybody. Some may think that this type of faith is too timid, too laced with apathy about solid answers, and too open to the possibility of dissolving altogether. Perhaps they're right... I honestly don't know, but I honestly stay true to where I am and for now I confess that my answers to every single big question (does God exist, why am I here, where do socks go when they disappear from the laundry) is, "I don't know". But even if I don't know, I believe in answers to these questions, and then I live accordingly.

One of my favorite Old Testament passages is when Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego are facing the fiery furnace, their punishment for refusing to worship a statue of King Nebuchadnezzar. Instead they said they only worshipped God. Before throwing them into the fire, the king gave them one last chance to bow to his image. This was their answer in Daniel 3:16:

"O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."

I hear them saying, "You know what? We could be wrong about this. We could totally burn up into nothingness in ten seconds. But we're sticking with our hearts and our faith. We can't prove we're right. But we go on anyway."

I admire that so much. That's the spirit of doubting Thomas in the New Testament, a guy who gets way too bad a reputation sometimes. Sure, he doubted some of Jesus' decisions and he doubted the resurrection, but he kept on anyway! When Jesus told his followers he would go to see his friend Lazarus, Thomas thought it was a bad plan. This would mean going right back to the people who had earlier tried to kill Jesus. It was dangerous, possibly silly, and there was no evidence Jesus nor his followers would survive. Jesus stood his ground and said he was going. Thomas answered (John 11:16):

"Let us also go, that we may die with him."

What a doubter! He knew there was no guarantee that he would survive, but he went away, because he believed in what Jesus was doing. I love that.

Some of my Christian friends did not grow up in Christian families -- they came to their own faith later in life and from different angles. But each of them came to faith in ways more mysterious than obvious, through feelings as much as logic. Some of them read this blog. For many of them, when I ask about their "conversion" story, it goes something like this: one day I didn't believe, the next day I did.

This gives me courage, because in the end, to answer the title of this post, I believe because I believe. I have no proof that I'm right. I confess my Christian upbringing was a major factor, and in other circumstances I'd be something other than Christian. I confess that there are social pressures to me keeping a Christian label.

I don't use science or archeology to prop up the bible as infallible truth. I don't claim any particular grasp of spiritual wisdom that is better than any other faith, denomination or church member. And yet I believe.

I may not believe the exact same things you do. In fact, we almost assuredly don't agree on many things. This often makes things a little prickly for me at church, as it's hard to find the line between healthy diversity and breaking from the faith. What things can I disagree on openly and still be considered a "brother"? It's under the surface of my mind most Sundays I go to our church.

Confession time:

-- I agree with some of Lee Strobel's conclusions in the "Case for Christ" series of books, but I find his methods faulty and his arguments weak.
-- I believe that the rule of consequences is built into the universe, but I'm highly doubtful of the traditional view of hell.
-- I believe that Jesus is my absolute biggest spiritual influence, yet I doubt some of the Trinitarian doctrines that are supposedly essential to my Christian status.
-- I believe that what we do in this life matters, but I don't fret about my "special purpose" and instead have been focused on living naturally, meeting each day ready for whatever it brings.
-- I believe that the golden rule encompasses the very essence of the most important parts of Christianity, but I admit that other religions have equal, and sometimes superior, focus on that same essence.


And I believe.